Pie Filling and Thievery
by the one a.m. writer
Summary: Newly human Cas likes making pie. Dean likes stealing the filling. Sam misinterprets things and panics. Team Free Will share a few moments at the bunker.


_Newly human Cas likes making pie. Dean likes stealing the filling. Sam misinterprets things and panics. Team Free Will share a few moments at the bunker._

* * *

Humans need to eat, and as a result, they've developed something that's more than a passive need for food. Humans _want_ food, usually unhealthy food. Castiel was just figuring this out.

He understood the pie thing now. Pie, although its total nutritional value was low, was delicious. Then Sam had pointed out that as long as Cas had free time and ingredients, he could _make_ pie. So he did. The first few turned out slightly damaged (if your definition of slightly damaged includes burn marks on the ceiling), but Cas got the hang of it eventually, and it soon became a common occurrence for the bunker to smell like warm pie.

Dean, for his part, brought Cas ingredients and stole pie filling. If Cas was baking, you could bet that Dean would soon find his way to the kitchen to swipe his finger through the bowl of whatever glazy fruit was going in the pie. Cas almost had a panic attack the first time, because the recipe called for a very specific amount of ingredients and Dean had clearly messed up the measurements, but Sam also pointed out that Cas didn't need to be exact. After that, Cas could be found surreptitiously tasting the pie filling himself. It didn't stop him from yelling at Dean for doing the same.

* * *

Sam entered the bunker to hear screaming.

He clattered down the stairwell, tossed his jacket on the floor, and dashed into the kitchen to find Dean and Cas.

No one was attacking. No one was in danger. Cas was screeching at the top of his lungs as he did his best to hold the bowl out of Dean's reach. He was backed up against a counter, and Dean was reaching over him.

"CASTIEL!" Sam yelled, trying to invoke the same feeling you get when your mother calls you by all three names. It fell a little flat with the former angel, seeing as he only had one name. Sam briefly wondered if Cas's full name included Angel of Thursday or Angel of the Lord, or if either were even correct now that he was human.

"Sam!" Cas returned delightedly, snapping his gaze to the younger Winchester brother. "Please ask Dean to stand down."

"Dean!" Sam yelled.

"What?" Dean asked innocently, pivoting to lean against the counter next to Cas and casually reaching over Cas's head to the bowl of filling. Cas leaned away. In slow motion, he tilted too far, lost his balance, and flung his arms out-

The bowl was caught expertly by Sam, who had the reflexes only gained from a lifetime of hunting.

"Thank you, Sam," Cas said gratefully, holding his hands out for the bowl.

"Dean's behind you," Sam pointed out. Sure enough, Dean was standing close enough to Cas to reach over his shoulder and secure his prize should Cas take the bowl.

"Thank you," Cas repeated, turning to push Dean away. "I have been trying to tell Dean that I need to assemble the pie before he can eat it, but he insists on coming here and stealing my hard work. He does not even help to make up for it."

"Why am I surprised?" Sam asked. While Cas's back was turned, he swiped some of the filling for himself, then handed the bowl back to Cas. "Come on, Dean, stop bothering the pie-maker," he added, dragging his brother away by the elbow while he licked the glaze off his finger. The Winchester brothers disappeared around the corner.

"HEY!" Cas shouted, seeing the imprint in his mixture that clearly indicated a thief. "SAM! I trusted you, Sam!" he complained, setting the bowl down and running after them, but Dean and Sam had long since disappeared down the hallways of the bunker, their laughter echoing on the metal walls.

* * *

"Where's the pie?" Dean asked, confused.

"I hid it," Cas told him, glaring. "Because you were being mean."

"Hey!" Dean protested with an easy smile. "I was helping!"

"Your help is unhelpful," Cas told him grumpily, stomping away. Dean laughed. Cas wouldn't stay mad for long.

Sure enough, the pie reappeared for dessert that night, and the three of them shared it with cheerful conversation.

* * *

 **I don't make pie, but I make cupcakes, and I feel Cas's pain.**

 **Writing tips from the creator of this story: Write lots, finish few, delete the rest, and be happy.**


End file.
